


Children's and Househould Tales

by SpaghettiCanActivist



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Ed and Al are the babies of the family, Ed gets into constant trouble, Ed hurt, Gen, Team Bonding, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-05
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-07-07 02:54:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15899457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaghettiCanActivist/pseuds/SpaghettiCanActivist
Summary: A series of one-shots cataloging Edward's first year in the Military. Lots of bonding between him and Mustang's team. Emphasis on Edward getting himself into trouble.





	1. Little Red Riding Coat

It was into the second month of Ed working in the military and he felt relatively settled, if that was even the word for it. He squirmed in discomfort from his position in the chair. He was waiting for a meeting with Colonel Mustang’s higher up, Lieutenant-General Hooper. It was really just a small formality, a quick necessary meeting to ensure that Ed was fitting into the military environment.

The Amestris military had never recruited someone as young as Ed, and they were still hesitant about the exact functionality of it. Despite their attempt to spin such a young recruit as an image of Amestrian Patriotism they had faced quite a bit of backlash from certain portions of the population. Such unsavory portents lead to a white glove approach when dealing with the boy. Best to ‘dot the i’s and cross the t’s’ until everything was settled.

“Lieutenant-General Hooper will see you now,” the secretary called out.

Ed slipped out of the chair and made his way into the office. Lieutenant-General Hooper was an older officer, a few months from retirement, and duly comfortable in his position of desk duty.

“Major Elric,” he said with a gracious smile.

“Sit down son, sit down. This won’t take long.”

Ed cut back the glare he wanted to attack the man with and kept his gaze relatively amicable. 

“So, Major, how are you doing? Everything settling alright?”

“Just fine, sir, but I did have a-” Ed was cut off.

“That’s wonderful, just wonderful!” The man boomed, completely ignoring Ed.

“So nice to see everything is going well. I have one tiny thing for you, and I’ll send you on your way.”

Ed peered at the paper the Lieutenant-General handed him with a raised brow. It was a sealed envelope.

“I’ll just need you to bring that to Brigadier-General Thomas.”

With that the Lieutenant-General stood and ushered Ed out. 

“It was wonderful seeing you Major Elric, do take care!”

Ed frowned, glancing back as the office door shut. He’d heard rumours of the Lieutenant-General’s eccentricities, he just hadn’t been expecting such a brusque and informal meeting. He held the manilla envelope up and looked at the address. It just had the name of the recipient. Ed let out a frustrated sigh, he had no idea where Brigadier-General Thomas’ office was.

After marching around fruitlessly for an hour, Ed finally gave up his dignity and timidly approached one of the office secretaries.

“Oh, why hello there!” The young woman said brightly, smiling down at Ed.

“What can I do to help you young man?”

Ed’s eyebrow quirked. He was a friggin’ Major in the military, not some dopey kid who couldn’t tie their shoes, he wanted to tell her where she could stick her ‘hello there’ and shove it all the way to hell. Instead he politely asked,

“I was wondering if you could tell me where Brigadier-General Thomas’ office was?”

“Oh, honey,” she said with a frown, “I’m not sure where that’s at.”

“I do,” a man volunteered, who moved toward them. With tall clear features, a straight nose and weakly handsome features, he didn’t mark much for the memory. His brown hair and eyes, and entire demeanor held a calm and safe attitude though which made him unmemorable but comfortable to be around.

“I could take you there if you’d like?” He offered, smiling kindly at Ed.

His eyes roved over Ed and Ed could see the man’s smile falter slightly as he took in Ed’s silver pocket watch which was peeping out of his pocket.

“I’d appreciate that,” Ed said, wanting desperately to just deliver the godforsaken envelope and to return to ravishing the libraries texts on stoichiometry matrices, especially as they applied to chain theory. He was chasing this thought in his head about the philosopher’s stone which he hoped would give him the breakthrough he’d been looking for.

The man turned, moving to walk beside Ed as he showed him the way.

“I’m Lieutenant-Colonel Petrarch, you’re Major Elrich? The youngest alchemist?”

Ed could hear the curiosity and disbelief in the man’s voice and felt frustration rise. He didn’t want to explain to every living soul that, yes, he did get into the military and yes, he was actually twelve.

“Yes,” Ed grit out.

Petrarch’s eyes lit up and he began talking, blithering on about the military and how much he respected it and his position. He kept asking questions too, about Ed, about his family, why he was there, what he was doing, what kinds of things he liked. It made Ed uncomfortable and he tried to give the shortest answers possible. The man didn’t seem to get the hint.

Finally they arrived at the office area of Brigadier-General Thomas. It was empty. Ed stormed in and marched about looking for anyone. It seemed everyone had cleared out.

“I heard the Brigadier-General was moving to another building, I didn’t think it was so soon.”

Ed glared grumpily at the man and slammed the manilla folder on the desk. Who cared if it got delivered? He had a book to read.

“Maybe I can help you find where he moved to?” Petrarch said.

Ed shrugged. “They’ll come back and find it.”

He started to move toward the door but looked up in surprise to find Petrarch standing in his way.

“You’re a very handsome young man,” Petrarch said, a strangely unsettling smile on his face.

“Look, I’ve got to go, I have somewhere to be,” Ed said, trying to walk around the man.

Petrarch grabbed his shoulder. Ed frowned, it wasn’t a forceful touch, barely enough force to even really make contact.

“I have a proposition for you, Major Elric.”

Ed’s frown grew more pronounced. Something was wrong here, but he wasn’t sure what.

“I can help you, I know people who could get you both the funding and time you need to continue your research. I’ve heard that you want to focus on informational projects rather than missions.”

Ed paused, that did interest him. So far Colonel Mustang had been strict about forcing him to fulfill missions, even if they were silly little things that mainly had to do with P.R.

Petrarch leaned in, a hand casually coming to rest on Ed’s shoulder.

“I think we could help each other,” he said, hand sliding along Ed’s shoulder and arm.

Ed moved back, feeling very uncomfortable with the situation. This guy was being weird.

“Look, I-” Ed fell short as the man’s hand suddenly fell to places which Ed did not feel comfortable letting anyone near except himself. He jerked back, pulling away.

“I have to go,” Ed repeated, panic fluttering in his chest as his flight or fight response started to kick in.

Petrarch started to move toward Ed, backing him into the wall. Petrarch’s hand came up and Ed readied his hands to punch the guy in the balls and make a run for it.

The door opened and they both froze. In peered Second Lieutenant Heymans Breda. Breda’s eyes went wide as he took in the scene, before narrowing quickly in comprehension. Ed took that moment to duck away from Petrarch and figuratively hide behind Breda.

It was silent for a few awkward moments, Petrarch’s flushed, guilty looking gaze not meeting the eyes of Breda. 

“Second Lieutenant, I was just leaving,” Petrarch said curtly, sweeping out of the room.

Breda made sure to keep between Ed and Petrarch. Breda turned to survey Ed. The angry, defiant look that was nearly ubiquitous on the boys features during the short month Breda had known him was replaced by a look of fear. 

“You alright, big guy?” Breda asked.

Ed gave a quick nod which Breda didn’t say anything to.

“Well, the Colonel will have my head if I come back without you,” Breda said, nodding his head in the direction of the door.

Ed gave another quick nod and followed Breda out the door. Ed stayed close to the large physique of Breda and the man let him, even making sure to walk just a little closer than he normally would. They reached the office, Breda hesitating at the door.

“You come to me if anyone is bothering you, got that chief?” He said in an easy manner.

Ed gave a tiny smile and nodded. Breda grinned back.

A month later Lieutenant Colonel Petrarch was court-martialed and dishonourably discharged. Apparently some very incriminating evidence had been cast, a good portion of it coming from one Second Lieutenant Breda.


	2. Frau Trude

A loud expletive sounded from Mustang’s mouth, something which had Hawkeye sending him a rather dangerous look while the rest of his team either ignored it, or in Breda and Havoc’s case, had them leaning in their chairs to look through their boss’ office door.

“That little brat!” Mustang bit out, slamming his telephone onto the receiver.

“I hate to remind you sir, but we’ve had some complaints from the maintenance office about appliance use guidelines. I’m afraid they’ve removed the use of telephones as projectiles and other like occupations,” Hawkeye said in her dry tone, a subtle but meaningful look being sent Mustang’s way.

Mustang didn’t seem to be paying attention.

“We need to go, get Breda and Havoc, Elric decided to go after Mother Trudy.”

Hawkeye became very serious, immediately moving to follow Mustang’s orders. Mustang meanwhile was shouldering on his jacket. He opened up his desk drawer next, withdrawing a pair of white gloves with carefully etched transmutation circles.

Mother Trudy was a serial killer, originally the investigation had been Lieutenant Colonel Hughes’, only being brought to the attention of Mustang by Hughes gossiping ways. Once alchemy had begun to be present in the killings, Hughes had pulled Mustang in for consulting purposes. But Ed had gotten wind of it and become obsessed, something about the transmutation circles Mother Trudy had been using had interested him. Mustang had told him to stay away and deal with his own projects.

Instead Ed had to go track down Mother Trudy, a female serial killer who targeted children ages five to fourteen. Mustang couldn’t express how pissed he was, nor the inexplicable stab of fear which consumed him. Edward was right in her age range, twelve years old and smaller than average.

How would he look if the kid he sponsored, his own goddamn employee, died because they refused to follow orders? His reputation was on the line here and as usual, Edward Elric, the alchemist who lived to be a Pain in Mustang's Ass, was totally disregarding every bit of training the military had attempted to instill in him.

Sweeping out the door he was followed by Breda, Havoc and Hawkeye.

“Sir, do you want me to phone anybody else?” Hawkeye asked.

Mustang was angry, but he managed to get together a coherent thought.

“Hughes, this is his case, we're consulting. Besides,” Mustang continued in a quieter voice, “We may need more help.”

 

 

It was raining outside, not unusual for the region this time of year, but unfortunate. Ed had left an obvious trail behind and they were mustering a small force at the house they'd been lead to. It was a drab but neat little townhouse out in the poorer area of Central. Uniformed men were running about, closing the perimeter while Mustang looked on.

“Gloves aren't much good,” Hughes muttered, a hand running through his wet hair as he stepped closer to Mustang.

Mustang said nothing, the fury that he'd felt toward Fullmetal dimmed to something more urgent. He'd seen the images of the crime scenes. Hughes had passed them to him, eyes wide with fear and pained disgust.

Mother Trudy tied the children down, their little wrists and ankles always purple and red --some bleeding even-- when the police discovered their discarded corpses in alleyways and dumpsters. Then, Mother Trudy proceeded to eviscerate them, a slow process. She'd peel back fingernails, items not yet found and assumed to be kept by her for alchemical work. The she'd cut into their bellies. It was a surgical cut, always, Y-shaped and precise. It started right below the belly button of every child and came up to the right and left of the rib cage. It ended with their eyes being sloppily cut out. Coroner reports suggested that the child was kept alive through the whole process. She ended with removing their entrails and keeping them.

“How soon until we can head in?” Mustang asked.

“Should be a few minutes,” Hughes replied.

It was silent.

“He's going to be fine Roy,” Hughes reassured.

Mustang said nothing in return.

A minute later and Mustang, by his insistence, was leading the charge into the house. They barged in, men spreading out into the well kept little living room and the quaint kitchen. Everything was empty. Mustang mounted the stairs, Hughes right behind him and more men.

He hit the first step and instinctively knew that this was it. He could smell the recent alchemy in the air, power nigh palpable, along with the sickening scent of blood. He ignored the closest room and headed for the one he knew held his subordinate.

He kicked it in.

Mother Trudy was a middle aged woman, she had a pretty face. There was a table in the middle of the room, a child strapped to it that wasn't Fullmetal. Mustang shot on instinct as Mother Trudy raised her hand, he didn't care if she was unarmed.

Hughes rushed forward to the child, hands quickly untying them and fingers finding their pulse point. His head fell, hands trembling. He shook his head.

Mustang stepped forward, avoiding looking at the small corpse missing both eyes that was laid on the table. He looked around. Fullmetal wasn't there. Where was his subordinate?

There were shouts and Mustang turned, pushing past policemen and rushing down the stairs.

Havoc had the kid, arms full of a bleeding twelve year old. Edward was unconscious, his prosthetics crudely cut off by alchemy. Bruises covered him and Mustang felt sick, realizing exactly how small and young Fullmetal was.

“God,” Havoc said, “she had him in chains, she-”

Havoc fell short, eyes sickened as he met Mustang's gaze.

“Get him to the ambulance. We'll stay here to finish up,” he snapped his commands.

There were salutes and his people hopped to it. Hughes hand fell on his shoulder. Mustang turned to meet his gaze. They silently shared a moment, the heavy weight of knowledge bearing down on them.

 

 

Mustang ended up in the hospital, seated in Edward Elric's room. Alphonse was there, the dull red eyes of the armor peering blankly at the large gauntlet hands.

Mustang for his part was watching Fullmetal. An unrecognizable emotion burned softly in his gut, it made him sick and furious and crippled with worry. He hated it. He wanted to scream at Fullmetal, ask him what he was thinking, tell him that he could've died.

Mustang's grip tightened on the chair arm. He could've died, under Mustang's command.

“Why didn't brother ask me to go with him?” Al's young voice croaked out.

Mustang startled, blinking in slight confusion and the boy.

“He-he could've asked,” Al said, fingers spreading, those big hands useless in his lap.

Mustang looked over at Edward Elric. The child, even at this young age, was a martyr. If Mustang could guess he'd say Ed had been trying to spare Al.

“He'll be just fine, Al.”

The armor turned, those dull red orbs landing on Mustang. They were unreadable, and Mustang felt uncomfortable. He had yet to become accustomed to the 'little’ brother of Edward Elric, still slightly sick when he thought of a child's soul being tied to an inanimate object.

“You're right sir,” Al replied, reassured because Mustang was the grown-up.

Children, Mustang repeated in his head, they were both children. Children now under his control and ultimately protection. Guilt, bitter and heavy swept through him. He turned his gaze to Ed.

Ed looked innocent and soft in sleep, when you couldn't see his fierce eyes and his missing limbs were hidden by blankets and perspective. He didn't die, Mustang reminded himself, and he wouldn't, not if Mustang could help it.


End file.
